


Be There For Me, Baby, Even When It's Bad

by harrysbun



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:04:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysbun/pseuds/harrysbun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was gone and Louis is being a shit when he comes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be There For Me, Baby, Even When It's Bad

**Author's Note:**

> it is currently 12:15 am and this idea just came to me, im sure it's shit and I apologise in advance for everything .xx

It's one of those days. Stressful meetings, mostly one-sided as the five boys just sit and get an earful, silently texting one another from underneath the wood of the large table. Harry pinches between his eyebrows, nodding along with whatever the group of men in suits are saying as he scrolls through the never ending group messages between the five lads.  
 _Niall: When's this over?_  
Zayn: Maybe another fifteen minutes.  
Louis: Kill me.  
Harry's eyes linger a little longer on Louis' response, his thumbs freezing over the letters on the screen. It's been a little over a a week since Harry's seen any of the boys, especially Louis. Management set up some appearances for him in LA and he was torn from his and Louis' place in London before he could even say goodbye. And being Louis, he refused to call or text or Skype because that's just what he does when he's hurting and refuses to let anyone, even Harry in.  
And now Harry still has his duffle slung over his shoulder, being picked up straight from the airport and dragged here with three of his best friends between the one boy he really needs to be close to. But Harry knows that that was deliberate. And usually it'd be the team who made Harry and Louis separate, but that's mostly in public where there's cameras and fans. But right now, it's Louis who put the space between them, and although Harry misses him terribly, he can feel the anger racing through his veins at such a completely childish, completely _Louis_ act.  
"Harry?"  
Harry hums in response, reluctantly looking up from his phone and to a man he can't remember the name of. Usually Harry'd at least _act_ polite but today he's just not in the mood.  
"Are you all right with heading back to LA for the remainder of the break? Get some good publicity with Kodaline?"  
Harry's eyes absentmindedly find Louis; his eyes glued to the phone he has pressed against his tummy. His lips are set into a thin line and Harry can vaguely see that his jaw is clenched.  
"I have a choice?" Harry wonders aloud, looking away from Louis.  
The men exchange some wary looks at the same moment Niall, Liam and Zayn do. Louis just keeps looking down at his phone even though the screen is black.  
"Yeah, you do. Kodaline just called and asked, what with their tour coming up soon, they thought it'd be a good idea."  
"Hm," is all Harry says in response. His blunt fingernails pick at the wood on the table whist his eyes just keep flicking back to Louis who just refuses to look up even though he can literally _feel_ Harry's eyes on him.  
"It'd just be for two weeks," they continue. And it's the "just" that makes Louis tick. He looks up, finally, and smiles at Harry. It's the kind of smile that makes Harry tense up because it's completely insincere and the one Louis wants to use when he's being a little shit.  
"Yeah Harry, it'd just be for two weeks. Just like the other three you were gone for," Louis says dryly. Niall clears his throat as Harry's hand twitches on the table.  
Harry and Louis finally lock eyes and it takes all of Harry's willpower to not leap over the boys between them and kiss him. It's been weeks since he's last even _touched_ him. Louis just rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair picking at his fingernails.  
"I'd rather not," Harry finally says, turning his attention to the men at the other end of the table. "I'll just tweet them or something, get them whatever attention it is that they want."  
It's obvious that they really wanted Harry to agree, with the way that their faces fall. But, there probably is some human left in them that they don't push; maybe they've had their fill of pushing the lads around. Then again, maybe not.  
"Okay," one says. "Okay, then that's it for today, boys. We'll see you in two weeks."  
Niall is the first one up, walking quickly to the door with Louis and then Zayn following right behind him.  
Harry sighs as he stands, looking longingly at Louis' back as he readjusts the strap on his shoulder.  
"If it's any conciliation mate, he's just upset," Liam tells Harry, clapping him on his shoulder.  
"It's not."  
Liam keeps quiet as he and Harry walk out the door and through the corridor, following the loud laughs of Louis and Niall. And it really shouldn't make Harry this _angry_ to hear that Louis can act so unaffected. But, it does, and it frightens Harry how angry he is.  
As Harry follows Liam into the SUV that takes them all home, or rather, the place they happen to crash in when they're in London, he has to contain his glare as he sees that Louis has smushed himself between Niall and Zayn, leaving the other seats open for Harry and Liam.  
"You sure you don't want to drive your fancy American car instead, Harry?" Louis asks as soon as the door shuts and the car takes off. Harry clenches his teeth together he sets his duffle on his lap. He doesn't answer, just looks out toward the window and to the rainy, dreary city that is London.  
If he's honest with himself, he isn't that fond of London anymore. Back when he never even left Europe, he thought it was the most beautiful place in the world. But, as soon as he actually saw the _world_ , he realised that it's just so damn depressing here. He loves the sun and the beach and the warm weather that is West Coast America. And he'd honestly rather be anywhere than here right now.  
He remembers once he told Louis about it; his idea of wanting to move to California, get a house by the beach and just spend his days with him there, getting lost in the sun. Louis just scoffed and shook his head saying, _"Too much sun isn't good for the heart, Harold."_. And then he kissed him, right on the balcony overlooking the clouds and the city that is London and it was right then that Harry realised that Louis is his sun; he doesn't need to move to LA to get the warmth because holding Louis in his arms is just enough.  
"Louis, where am I dropping you?" Mark calls from the driver's seat. Harry looks up and sees that Niall and Zayn are gone, probably both staying Zayn's since Niall hasn't found a permanent place in London since he left his last flat.  
"Home," Louis shrugs. And that right there makes Harry's stomach flip because Louis said home. And that means the place he and Harry share. Once, when Louis was very, very angry at Harry for having to miss his birthday/New Year's party for a public appearance with Taylor, he said "my flat" and that means the flat he has in the centre of London that he got when Harry was forced to move out the first flat they shared together. So, with Louis saying "home" gives Harry a little hope that he might be able to finally hold his boy tonight.  
"Harry?" Mark prompts.  
"Home," and Harry doesn't miss a beat.  
-  
As soon as the car comes to a stop at the place Harry and Louis share, Louis jumps out almost immediately. Harry sighs, grabbing hold of his duffle and giving Liam and Mark a dismissive, half-hearted smile as he too steps out of the car and into the rain.  
The front door's already closed when Harry gets to it and he rolls his eyes, hand going for the knob and closing his eyes in frustration as he realises it's locked.  
"Fucking Louis," he grumbles under his breath, digging in his duffel for the keys he rarely needs because usually it's Louis who unlocks the door. He knows he's just trying to be a shit to him but honestly.  
Harry drops his bag to the floor as soon as he steps into the dry warmth and toes off his shoes and socks, placing them nicely where they're supposed to go. He has to bite back whatever anger is boiling in him as he sees the absolute fucking _mess_. Now, he's always known that Louis is messy but this is just fucking ridiculous.  
The TV is still on, on pause from whatever video game Louis has stuffed into the console and the beer bottles littering the entire space of the living room doesn't help any of the other mess surrounding Harry; shirts and shoes and takeaway boxes and cigarets and boxers and probably some of Zayn's weed that he leant Louis. And that right there makes Harry the angriest. He promised Harry he'd quit; both fags and weed. Yet there they both are, staring at Harry straight in the face.  
He carries about eight beer bottles to the kitchen, groaning at the even dirtier sight in front of him. Chucking them in the bin, he rests his elbows on the worktop and buries his face in his hands. Louis' mess doesn't bother him so much, it's more of the blatant fact that Louis didn't stop what he did on a normal basis because Harry wasn't here. He sat here and got high and played FIFA and ordered takeaway all the while Harry was across the world, miserable, because Louis wouldn't so much as answer a bloody text. Harry swallows thickly, ignoring the mess as making his way toward the staircase, flicking off the lights that Louis also so carelessly left on on his descent to wherever he went.  
When Harry reaches their bedroom door, he hears the shower running and that alone makes him go weak in the knees as he rests his forehead on the door, breathing heavily through his nostrils. Louis always takes showers to avoid whatever problem he and Harry might have going on and it makes Harry so damn _sad_ that Louis can't just talk to him. Instead, he has to hideaway and act like everything is sunshine and flowers when it's anything but.  
When he opens the door, he's surprised to see the bed completely made and the bedroom just as spotless as Harry left it. It's obvious by the way the rest of the house is that the cleaning service isn't here, so it hits Harry that Louis probably hasn't been in here since they were last here together.  
The joint-bathroom door is open slightly, leaving the room a little illuminated and Harry wants to roll his eyes at the fact that Louis more than likely just stepped right out of his pants and boxers and left them in the doorway. _Louis_ , Harry thinks as he picks up the clothes and tosses them in the direction of the hamper in the large closet that has barely any clothes in it. The image makes Harry frown; he and Louis are never here long enough to have clothes that are still appropriate for the season or that still even fit.  
Harry doesn't hesitate as he steps into the muggy bathroom, catching glimpse of a naked Louis washing his body from the glass doors of the shower. Harry has to, again, restrain his eyes from lingering too long and his limbs from walking into the shower and joining him. Usually, Harry'd just give in and speak to Louis first, ignoring whatever it was that he or Louis' done and just kiss him. Just kiss him to shut up his stupid little comments and just kiss him because no matter how long or short they fight, Harry _misses_ him. Misses him so much that it hurts. And it's completely ridiculous to miss someone who is just a few feet away physically. But mentally, Louis is gone. He shuts Harry out because that's simpler than dealing with whatever is fucking with his mind. And Harry lets him this time because he's _tried_. He's tried so hard to get him to reach out and he will not budge. And Harry's exhausted.  
Harry tears his eyes away from Louis and instead focuses on shaving the little patches of hair that have grown in the past week and a half. Louis hates when he doesn't shave. And angry or not, Harry does it out of habit, shaves whatever little hair he has on his chin to please Louis. And if he's being honest with himself, he'd do just about anything to please Louis.  
He washes his face, just for something to do so he can sneak a few more glances at Louis because he's just so beautiful. And Harry sometimes forgets how beautiful Louis is. He's sure he doesn't say it enough, but that doesn't mean he isn't. Harry's completely _smitten_. And he's sure he doesn't say that enough either.  
The water comes to a stop and Harry can feel his heart rate pick up as Louis steps out, completely naked, and reaches beside Harry to grab the towel Harry was just about to use on his face. And usually, Harry would just laugh but now, as he sees the complete and utter insincere expression Louis wears as he towels off, Harry loses all the self control he's had.  
"Can you not walk two fucking feet to get your own fucking towel," Harry says through gritted teeth, snatching the towel straight from Louis' hands and wiping his face. Louis just looks at him, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth that makes Harry's hand twitch in anger.  
"Sorry, I've just been used to being alone that I forgot that there'd be a need for more than one towel in here," he shrugs, snatching the towel right back and wrapping it around his waist as he walks out of the rest room.  
"Oh fuck _off_ Louis, honestly," Harry groans as he follows him, trying so hard to keep his voice at level. He doesn't have the energy right now to yell.  
"Fuck you Harry," Louis spits, angrily opening up one of the drawers and grabbing some boxers.  
"Why not go get some off of the floor downstairs? There's gotta be enough down there to last an entire fucking lifetime," Harry mumbles under his breath, taking off his watch and setting it on the bedside table.  
"Maybe they're not all mine, you ever thought of that? I could do loads of things with you not here," Louis challenges, sliding the boxers up his legs. Both Harry and Louis know that either of them even thinking of that is impossible. Neither of them are capable of cheating. But, it's enough to make Harry flinch, hard and bite down on his tongue.  
"Fuck off," is all he says again. But, this time, it's different in the way he says it and Louis knows. There's nothing right now that he can think of to even _begin_ to express how fucked up that is of Louis to say. And though Harry knows he's hurting right now, he doesn't give one shit because that is the lowest possible thing to throw in his face.  
"I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom," Louis says after a while.  
Harry doesn't acknowledge him, only shucks off his clothes and climbs into the large bed on what presumably his side would be. This whole thing is completely idiotic to Harry. He's so exhausted to a point where he really doesn't care if Louis doesn't want to speak to him. It's his own stubbornness that gets them to this point and there's no way to fix it unless Louis wants to, which right now, it seems as though he doesn't. So Harry just shuts his eyes.  
He can feel Louis' body lingering nearby but refuses to look up. And when the door closes and he can hear Louis' footsteps descending down the corridor, Harry lets a few forbidden tears fall.  
-  
Harry's eyes are still sore and puffy when he walks, blindly, back up the stairs with a cold water bottle in his hand. It's not like he slept much in the few hours he was in the too large bed, so he's very surprised he can still stand up straight.  
His eyes linger on the closed door across the hall, knowing Louis is fast asleep on the crisp bed that no one has ever been on for longer than thirty minutes. Once, Louis had asked Harry to blow him while he continued to paint the back wall a dark grey colour, causing the painting patterns to falter a bit but that's the only time both Louis and Harry had both been in there at the same time.  
A soft little whine fills Harry's ears as he opens up the door to their bedroom, stopping him in his tracks, eyes darting to the door Louis is behind. Now, Harry thinks it's absolutely absurd for Louis to maybe be awake right now, it has to he at least four in the morning. And Louis honestly has the sleeping schedule of an old man, falling asleep just around the time the sun goes down. And really, Louis never loses sleep over the fights he and Harry have, that's usually Harry. But that doesn't stop Harry from walking quietly over to the door, turning the knob and looking curiously into the dark room.  
"Go away," a little voice croaks from underneath piles and piles of blankets and pillows. And Harry would have listened, too tired to deal with anything right now, but a quiet sniffle following Louis' demand changes his mind. He walks, barefooted, along the cold hardwood floor and to the side of the bed, seeing Louis' hair sticking out from all the warm things covering him from the moonlight streaming in.  
"No," Harry says.  
"'M serious, Harry, leave me alone," Louis' voice is muffled and strained but Harry can hear how broken his tone actually is. And it breaks his heart.  
Harry's heart beat falters when he lifts the many blankets and sees Louis' bare back and bum shiver with the cold air hitting his naked body. He half expects Lou to yell at him, tell him to fuck off and pull the blankets back over him, but he doesn't. Instead, he moves to side so Harry can slide in comfortably behind him.  
His body is warm, overheated maybe, but it's probably just in contrast to how cold Harry is. Walking round half naked in a large house while the AC is running in the season of winter in the city London is not the smartest idea. Harry drapes an arm over Louis' waist, pulling him back flushed against his body and tangling their legs together while he noses at the nape of Lou's neck. Louis surprises Harry by entwining their fingers and bringing them to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to Harry's knuckles momentarily before resting them at his chest, relaxing back against Harry, his cold skin soothing.  
"We should talk."  
"Not now," Louis sniffles, clutching tighter on Harry's hand.  
"Don't cry, baby," Harry breathes, kissing his shoulder gently. But that seems to open a floodgate; Louis' body suddenly shaking violently with his sobs, hand almost hurting Harry's with how hard he's squeezing it.  
"Shhh," Harry comforts, turning Louis' body so they're facing each other and pulling him into his arms, letting Louis cry into his chest at the same moment he wraps his little limbs all around him, clinging to him like his life depends on it.  
Harry just holds him, letting him let out whatever it is that he's been holding in since Harry'd left. And he knows how difficult it is for Louis to cry, let alone to let Harry _see_ him cry. Even after four years together, he hates for Harry to see how vulnerable he makes him because it fucking scares him how much Harry affects him; how much it will hurt to lose him. Because being vulnerable means it's easier to get hurt and when it happens it's a fucking bitch. And Louis hates it; hates how much power Harry has over him because, really, if Harry wanted, he could emotionally break Louis to a point of no return in a second.  
Harry doesn't know how long they stay like this, tangled limbs and tearstained cheeks, but he knows it's a long while before Louis' stops shaking and crying into his chest. And when Lou's breathing calms and his little fingers trace lines along Harry's back, he knows the worst is over.  
"I'm sorry I left," Harry whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Louis' hair. Louis just whimpers and tucks his face deeper into Harry's neck.  
"You can't just do that," he sniffs. "You can't just leave me."  
"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm just.. I don't know how to say no to them. Because if I do the wrong thing, just once, they can make it hell for the both of us, baby, and I don't want that for you," Harry explains and it's then that he really sees how true that is. In December two years ago, Harry refused to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas with Taylor; for public issues, and had to be photographed kissing her on New Years in New York, when he should have been in London for Louis' party. And that was possibly the hardest, worst part in their relationship of the past four years.  
"I'm just sick of them telling you where to go, when to be somewhere. Sick of them telling you who to be," Louis says, breath fanning out over the expanse of Harry's chest.  
"It's better than them telling you all that stuff, Lou. I'd rather it be me than you," Harry kisses his forehead. And Louis wants to cry again because it's not _fair_. It's not fair that it has to be one or the other, and it's not fair that one has to sit back and read from magazines what the other is doing from across the globe.  
"And it really doesn't help anything if you don't answer my calls or texts, babe," Harry adds, poking Louis in the side, just to hear him giggle slightly.  
"I'm sorry. I just.. it's hard. Talking to you when I know if things turned out differently, I could be cuddled next you at night," he squeezes Harry tighter to him to express what he means.  
"I know, love, but things aren't going to be that easy right now. Things are gonna be shitty and I need to know that when they are, you're gonna be there for me just like I'll be there for you," Harry says. And it's always been like that for them; when things got rough, they were still there for each other and Harry knows that it's getting harder, not so easy for Louis to _deal_ with it anymore. But he needs him to, it's the only way that they're going to work.  
"I will. It's just been hard lately," Louis sighs. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."  
"Okay, baby, we don't have to," Harry nods, hugging Louis small little body closer to his just because he can.  
"And I know I'm shit at telling you how I feel, Harry," he kisses Harry's sternum, "but just know that no matter what, I'll be here when you get home. Sure I'll give you shit for a while but I'll be here. I'm never going anywhere."  
"And that's all I can ever ask of you, Louis. I love you so much," he says. And Louis really does start crying because it feels like it's been forever since he's heard him say it.  
"I love you. I love you so much, I know I don't say it as much as I should but I do," Louis swallows hard and moves to straddle Harry, throwing a leg over his waist and sitting up, pulling Harry with him. Harry smiles sleepily up at him, setting his hands on Louis' naked waist.  
"You say it plenty, baby," Harry assures him because yeah, Louis says it probably fifteen times a day. Not nearly as much as Harry says it, but enough to bug the hell out of everyone around them. Louis just smiles his cute little smile and rests back against Harry's hips, looking thoughtfully down at Harry's chest, lifting his little fingers and drawing shapes and patterns into the soft skin stretched over Harry's sternum.  
"I was thinking about getting a new tattoo while you were away," Louis sniffs, still recovering from his sobs from earlier.  
"Yeah?" Harry catches his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his fingertips gently.  
"Right here," he taps at Harry's chest, just over his heart.  
"Of what?"  
"Just an H," Louis smiles down at Harry, "for herring, obviously."  
"Obviously," Harry rolls his eyes fondly. "Why didn't you?"  
"Because, what if I'm not feeling keen on herring one day? And I look down, and it's just there, _mocking_ me to a point of-" Louis' sentence gets cut off by a fit of giggles as Harry pokes and prods at his sides.  
"Shut up," Harry laughs, completely in awe of the beautiful, carefree boy above him. It's rare that Harry can see Louis just laugh or that he can make him just laugh, like he is right now. There's so much shit going on in their lives that Louis is mostly never truly laughing anymore; never being able to maintain a genuine smile. Harry wishes he did though, because Louis' smile is the most beautiful thing, apart from Louis himself, that Harry's ever seen.  
"You're beautiful," Harry caches himself saying on an exhale. It's quiet enough that Louis probably wouldn't have heard it if it weren't just the two of them in this quiet room.  
"Harry," Louis breathes, ducking his head and shoving it into Harry's neck, like he always does when Harry get so sappy and serious and he can't bear to see what Harry sees. He doesn't understand how he can be in love with him as much as he is with him.  
"You are, baby," Harry says, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist and pulling his entire body flush to his, glad it's cold enough that they won't start sweating at the proximity. "And I love you, you know that?"  
Louis nods, because he does, and answers with a quiet "love you," because he does. He really does.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback would be aces


End file.
